Shut Up
by NatalieRB
Summary: Previously named 'I'm Not Me'. First chapter has been re-written. Bella buys a self help book in relationships, and gets something unexpected from it. BE AJ OOC? BPOV.


**Authors note; **Hey. So this is not the preview, but my re-write of the preview mixed in with first chapter. I hope you all enjoy it and all that jazz. :)

**I'm Not Me**

**One.**

_Dear every woman in the world,_

_What's the first thing you think about when you get asked out on a date? Honestly, don't lie. I will tell you. The first thing every woman thinks about when she gets asked out on a date is 'Shit'. This is for several reasons. **One:** You think he is too good and it has to be a joke. **Two:** You think you are too good and think he is a joke, yet women are not as heartless as men, therefore you don't want to crush him either. **Three:** You have nothing to wear. **Four:** You don't want to wear anything, yet don't want to pressure him. In other words, you would rather have him for dinner. **Five:** Your grandma's funeral is at the same time. Well, it doesn't need to be your old Granny Margaret's funeral, but that's usually the excuse we get, either that or the classic 'Sorry, I'm washing my hair.' Don't say it. Even if people have told you that playing hard to get works. If your man is a dog, yes it does work. Otherwise, don't do it. Just don't. _

_Love ya,_

_Edward Cullen. XOX_

- - -

"What the hell?!" She screeched. "That doesn't fucking help me at all!" Ten dollars for five hundred pages of crap. "Insane, intelligent asshole." What is the point in writing a book about dating that only works with one particular type of woman? Well, okay ninety-nine point nine percent of women. What was so repulsive about Bella? Was something on her face? Did she have permanent marker on her face, _again_? She stopped dead. She ran to the bathroom. _Alice__ is such a bitch..._

Nope, Alice hadn't drawn on her face again, surprisingly. Bella actually half expected to have 'hoe', 'bitch', 'asshole' or something equally as degrading stamped across her forehead, so big that even the blind could read it. Alice is a bitch, but hard not to love.

"Bella! Bella-kins! Come out come out, wherever you are!" Bella groaned. Well, if you were having a shit day that consisted of what Bella's had so far, you would groan at the voice of the person who tried to superglue your hand to a tree in first grade.

"In here Alice."

"Bella!" Alice squealed, jumping into the arms of her best friend, (but possibly not for much longer unless Alice can learn to control her need to draw on Bella's face) Bella.

"Nice to see you too." Bella said, being suffocated by the hug that made her feel as if she were in a straight jacket. Too quickly, she was released, and her hand was holding air instead of a book.

"What the hell do you need this crap for?" Alice cried, punching a fist to her chest, feigning hurt. Bella rolled her eyes. "I could help you with dating." Bella raised a sceptical eyebrow. "I could help you!" She insisted. "You don't need some prissy know-it-all telling you what to do!" Look who's talking.

Bella took a few steps closer to her friend, towering over her small 4ft something with Bella's own 5ft something. They were not exactly the conventional pair of friends, but what is a conventional pair of friends? Anyway, wait until you see Rosalie join the group. _That_ will be something you have never seen.

"Give," Bella bared her teeth slightly, growling the words viciously. "Me," She spat. "The fucking," She took one more intimidating step. "Book."

"Make me." Alice whispered, standing on her tip-toes in a feeble attempt to grow ever-so-slightly.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have said that."

Bella took a large lunge for the book, with it falling in between her finger tips as Alice pulled it behind her just in time. Alice passed it to her other hand behind her back, with Bella going for the other side. Alice smirked as Bella looked blank for a few seconds, before seeing a flash of red under Alice's arm. If only Alice's arms had more meat on them, and was wearing a larger shirt, Bella may not have seen it. But, alas, she did, and grabbed the book, sticking her tongue out in triumph.

"Who does this Edward Cullen think he is anyway?" Alice asked, seemingly accepting her defeat, and stepping down graciously by seating herself on the coach and flicking both her shoes off. "He is no woman... I think." She giggled as she rubbed her aching feet. Bella's angry façade had long gone, and she couldn't help but let a fit of giggles consume her. Not soon after, a gust of wind sent shivers down their spines.

"I hate Emmett McCarty!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, not giving the poor neighbours a second thought, not only with her screech, but also with the force of which she slammed the door. Bella was surprised it stayed on its hinges.

"What did he do now?" Alice enquired, shuffling over to make room for Bella on the sofa and leaning forward to reach a magazine from the coffee table. God forbid anything that comes in between Alice and her magazines.

"He fucking stood me up, that's what he did! I swear, when I see him I will grab his little neck and he will never see the fucking daylight again when I'm through with hi-"

"Um... Rose?" A voice came from the door. The voice all three recognised in a split second. "I said I would pick you up." He grinned. "Did Rosie think I stood her up?" He pouted, tears pooling at the edges of his eyes. _Oh, he knows how to turn it on... _"I would never stand you up." He sniffled.

"Aw," Rose cooed, waltzing over to the door with a sway in her hips. Bella looked over at Alice, who, in turn, also looked like she was about to throw up. "I know you wouldn't. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was just so wrapped up in wanting to see you, you jumbled my mind up." Bella was positively considering the bathroom as her friend, because Alice would kill her if she got vomit on the couch. _How could any couple in the world be so sickly sweet?!_

Rosalie put her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him towards her, forgiving him for 'jumbling her mind up' with a kiss. The two girls behind gagged simultaneously. As quick as lightning, two kitten heels flew dangerously close to their faces.

"That's what you get for being moody bitches." Rosalie murmured against his lips, slightly disappointed that she missed them. It would have taught them to each have a heel stuck in their eye.

- - -

**BPOV**

Nine thirty isn't _that_ late. I think. I wasn't sure, because I have a terrible headache. I don't even remember drinking last night, which probably means I did drink last night, which is not a good thing. And, in turn, is not normal either, because I never drink on Sunday nights. So I must have had to forget about something. Well, whatever I needed to forget, it worked, obviously, since I don't remember anything. Oh, the wonders of alcohol.

I keep reminding myself I will get a better job, and I will. Eventually. But, truth is, I actually love my job. As shy as I am at a first meeting, I love seeing new people. I love seeing if I can tell their past just by a look at their face or the coffee they order or with the bills they pay with. Needless to say, I want to be a psychiatrist. But that takes years, and, at this moment in time, unfortunately, I don't have many years to spare. I want to finish my writing then get married, have two kids and then perhaps follow up my dream career path.

Alice told me I should put kids on hold until after my career takes off, but then I will have to take time off to have the kids. No one will employ me anyway, because they know I will eventually take maternity leave at some point. And then, when I get older, if I become a work-a-holic because I have no one to look after or to distract me from work, then me being at work all the time will make me less desirable.

I mean, it's not like I don't understand men. Well, actually, I don't understand men. I still don't know why I bought that book. I have always told myself that self help books are made for people that actually need help, and I promised myself from a young age I will not be one of those people. But hey, you have to be a disappointment sometimes. I just never thought it would be with my love life.

After making the long trek to my destination (nope, no car; Alice got up earlier and stole it before I even thought about it) I realised something, standing outside the door, a look of terror on my face. It was Monday. Mondays are bad. Mondays are bad, bad days that always end up making my mood bad for the rest of the day. Not even Alice could cheer me up. Not even my two boyfriends, Ben and Jerry, could cheer me up, and that's saying something. What kind of freak does not get excited with the thought of ice-cream? Me, apparently, but only on Mondays. Mondays suck.

"Bella, don't just stand there!" Jess sniped, her high voice scratching my metaphorical chalkboard. Ouch. She is the reason Mondays suck. "You're late!" I looked down at my watch to find she was right.

"By one minute!"

"You don't make money by being late." She sneered, turning on her ridiculously high heels and clacking off to the kitchen. Who wears high heels to be a waitress, anyway? What kind of idiot wears bright pink, six inch heels on a Monday to wait on old men?

"I don't make money in the first place." I whispered to myself, laughing. The pay really was miniscule.

I slung my coat on the stool at the counter and grabbed the stingy off-white apron from the hook behind me. Mondays still suck, and I still hate them. The only good thing that ever could come out of a Monday would be winning the lottery, and considering I don't but lottery tickets, my chances are pretty low.

"Bella!" Jess shouted. "Bella! That man is waiting!" I looked in front of me, and there was a man, but he had only just got through the door. What did Jess expect? Me to wait on him as soon as he stepped foot in the door? Actually, Jess probably did expect me to do that, considering she does that with every guy who looks under thirty or looks over fifty and rich as hell.

I really should start buying lottery tickets.

"Hello sir, what can I get you today?" I asked as he stopped in front of the counter and picked up a menu. He didn't look at me, nor did his face show any sign of hearing me. Oh, great, so he was one of _those_. "Sir?" Still no response. Great.

I watched him watch the menu. He had his finger on his lips, which were pursed in concentration. I wondered if he used lip balm. If he did, I would have to find out what type of lip balm. I wanted his lip balm. His eyes were dark, red rimmed with huge bags settling beneath them. I wondered what made him so tired. But then I just wondered back to what lip balm he uses.

He put the menu down and stuck his finger at an item on the menu, while reaching to his back pocket and pulling out an old, brown, leather tattered wallet. He kept his finger pointed at his selected item and pulled out a twenty from his wallet from one hand, shoving it in my face. Gee, thanks.

"Would you like a dressing with that, sir?" He looked at me blankly for a second, before shaking his head. Okay then. "I'll bring it to you when it's ready." I sighed, jotting down his choice on a piece of note paper and standing. Just as I turned he tapped me on the shoulder.

"Yes sir?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light. He was starting to irritate me.

There were only three things that really irritated me. Jessica, my mother, and people like the man in front of me. Sure, he hasn't really done anything to directly offend me, but he was starting to grate on me. If he wanted his lunch he should let me get his lunch. Then I stopped for a second, looking at his skin quickly, hoping it wasn't obvious. He didn't look foreign. For a moment I thought that he could have not understood me, he spoke another language, but he looked undeniably American. Well, that's me all out of theories.

He held one finger up at me, motioning me to wait. I sighed and nodded. He took his wallet out again to take out an old receipt, and took the pen I used to write his order down from my hands. I had a feeling we may actually get somewhere, so I didn't question him, but instead I watched as he concentrated on his writing.

He held the paper up at me. I looked at his face hesitantly before taking the paper in my own hands and reading it.

_'Could you repeat that please?' _I stood for a second, confused.

"Oh, right," I mumbled, thinking back to what I had said. "Um, I'll bring it to you when it's ready?" I said it slowly, but it came out like a question too. I wasn't sure what he expected. He looked at my mouth as I spoke, looked at me properly and nodded with a smile on his face. I nodded slowly back, trying to add everything up. "Oh!" I smiled at him. "You're deaf?" I asked, pointing to my ear. He nodded and looked at the floor. "No!" I said, waving a hand in his face to get his attention. "It's okay." I said slowly. He nodded and pointed to the seats behind him. I nodded and waved him off. Well, at least he wasn't just being rude.

Thinking back, I don't think I had ever met a deaf person before. It was something you were always aware of but never really experienced, if you know what I mean.

I rushed to get his food, stuffing the salmon into the sandwich, grimacing as I did so. Being vegan didn't stop Jess from making me handle meat. I did wear gloves, of course, but if you're vegan that doesn't make the slightest bit of difference. I might as well have been throwing it around.

"Hurry up Bella!" She heard Jess yell at her from the tiny room at the back, the open door labelled 'employee lounge'. Well, if you can call a sofa and tiny TV a lounge. Anyway, I was going as fast as I can.

I took a small bowl of salad, already prepared by Jess (well, at least she did _something_) and a bag of the sea salted chips from the stand beside me. I walked straight towards him, placing his food on the table and went back to the counter to grab him a bottle of water and a small pad of paper.

"I'm taking my break, Jess!" I called as I made my way over to him.

"No you're not!" She called back. "You only just got in!"

"I'm taking it early!" I sat down opposite him and he looked at me baffled, obviously not having Jess near to read her lips as well as mine, therefore only catching one side of the conversation. I just shook my head at him. I pointed at the paper and furrowed my eyebrows, silently asking him if he wanted to write. He took a bite of his sandwich before nodding and taking the paper from my hands. He stared at it for a second before looking up at me, both palms facing the sky.

"Oh, sorry." I mumbled, digging around in my apron for the pen. He jotted something down and handed me the pad quickly.

_'Do you mind if you talk?' _It read. _'I need to keep up my lip-reading.'_ I nodded and smiled. There was something about him that made me smile a lot.

"What's your name?" I asked slowly, reminding myself that he couldn't read my lips if I mumbled or spoke too quickly.

_'Jasper.' _He wrote. _'What's yours?' _

"Bella." I told him. He looked at me for a moment before motioning with his hands for me to repeat. I guess names were the hardest part of lip-reading, considering how many names there were in the world. I decided I would hate to be deaf, and I was proud of every deaf person in the world and what they have achieved. But then I remembered I should repeat my name.

Maybe today wasn't going to be _that _hellish.

"Bella, what are you doing?!" Jess screamed in my ear.

Or maybe it _was_ going to be hellish.

**Authors note; **Now come on, how many people thought Jasper was Edward? That was fun to write, and I have actually noticed how much I missed this story. Leave me reviews as love and I'll update. :)


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